


Speaking With Angels

by Believe_in_the_Journey (orphan_account)



Category: Dance Academy
Genre: Abigail thinks she's crazy, F/M, Probably will get happy again, Sad, season two spoilers, starts out with canon and then has nothing to do with the rest of the show pretty much...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:18:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Believe_in_the_Journey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(This has spoilers for end of Season Two)<br/>Set right after news of the accident is told to Tara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaking With Angels

Abigail curled up in the shower, the hot water soaking her clothes as rivulets of scalding liquid poured over her face. Sobs gripped her body, shaking her to the core. Her heart wanted to ice over, to go numb. She wanted to shut down so badly, like she always did. But she just couldn’t. The mind-crushing pain stabbed at the glassy numbness, breaking it into tiny little pieces where it couldn’t consume her.

How could he just leave her? How could he do this to her? It wasn’t fair. How could anyone do something like that? The pain cut at her and ripped open the floodgates. She hadn’t cried this hard in so long. Saltwater tears mixed in with the too hot water and she didn’t know which was which anymore. Whether she was crying harder or if the water was just soaking her face and screwing up her makeup.

And then just as it became too much, too steamy and too heartbreaking, the shower curtain was peeled back. There was Tara and Katrina, coming to tell her she had been lied to. It was not, could not be, true. But their faces were solemn, Kat’s streaked with tears, and they pulled her from the scalding water. They hugged her as her mind reeled. Samuel Lieberman was dead. A car hit him. Someone called an ambulance. He died in the vehicle meant to save people. The boy that always seemed bright with life and the person that made her better; he was dead. And she was broken.

***  
After a few months, the pieces started being picked back up. She started to heal from the pain. She still cried, still got emotional. There were a lot of shards and it sometimes sliced her fingers when she tried to glue them back in place. She tried to help Tara beat Grace in the _Prix de Fonteyn_ , but the girl just was not enough. That was okay. The performance still made her weep.  
She saw Sammy everywhere. Not literally of course, but she went to the same school he did. It was impossible to not have some sort of memory saved for every room. She started dancing more sporadically. During the summer break, she went to Barcelona and had a fling with a man named Wes. Guilt consumed her. She and Sammy had been meant to be, it felt like she was cheating on him now. Defiling his name by dating a man lesser than he.

Except for one tiny flaw. Sammy was not some great, amazing person. He was a sweaty, bumbling idiot that sometimes made her feel awful about herself. He turned gay when he was dating her. That was some serious knocking down of her self-esteem. Everyone likes to pretend the dead used to be perfect. They like to idolize them and preserve their memories because the dead are no longer here. They become whoever you want them to be. But it was not true. Sammy had not been perfect. He had his flaws just like anyone else. He could be annoying and exasperating. He could be clueless and kind of gross. He could be unintentionally hurtful. He was all these little things that made up Sammy Lieberman, and she still did not understand why she was so deeply in love with him.

“Focus, Abigail! You are meant to come in here. That was your cue!” Ms. Rain sighed.

“Sorry, ma’am.” Abigail said, pulled from her thoughts. The other students stared agape. It was unlike her to miss a cue. To not be paying attention. She berated herself as the music started back up and she joined the girls in the routine. She looked into the mirror as they leaped across the floor, and remembered the first year, when Sammy had been her partner. When it was exam week and she had starved herself. Sammy had tried to help her. She had pushed him away like she did everyone. He stayed with her. He did not break his promise, even when she did.

She faltered with her step, and Grace crashed into her, both falling over in a heap. The young blonde cried out in shock, before Tara and Ben were pulling them up. “What’s with you today, Abigail?” Grace hissed as she brushed herself off.

Abigail rolled her eyes. “Lost my balance. It’s not my fault you are leaping around with all the _grace_ of an elephant. It’s so distracting, I can’t hear the music.”

“Yes, I’m the elephant.” Grace snorted with a pointed look.

Abigail ignored her. Grace was trying to get a rise out of her. It would not work. They restarted and this time there were no missteps, at least not from Abigail. Zach and Ms. Rain paced around the dancing girls, criticizing every tiny flaw. Each minuscule imperfection had to be fixed.

“Tara you are not fast enough.”  
“Christian be quiet before I have you teach the class.”  
Each rebuke became more irritated than the last. Abigail ignored them as none were directed at her. Finally, they were allowed to stand to the side as the boys took their turn. As she watched, her attention was once again drawn to the mirror. At first, all she saw were the leaping boys. But then, right in the front, she saw Sammy. He was leaping gracefully with them, doing all the right moves at exactly the right time.

Her eyes widened and watered. Samuel. She wanted to call out his name, get him to look at her. To tell her he was real. That he had just been playing a prank on them and he was really fine all along. She whispered his name on a breath, before the world tilted. The dizziness was consuming her, the bees buzzing at an all time high in her head. And then there was only silence.

**Author's Note:**

> I may never finish this, or I may come back to it later... I don't know


End file.
